The Battle For The Armory
by Rogue Force
Summary: The attack on the Joes weapons production and storage facility, involving air, armor, and infantry as seen through the eyes of Ripcord and Covergirl.


Untitled 

Disclaimer: We don't own these characters, Hasbro does. This story takes place after Ripcord and Covergirl have returned from the England assignment. (See story entitled "Merry Olde England). This was originally written as an RPG, between the both of us, but reads like fanfiction. Please Read and Review. If you are interested in writing Joe fanfic in an RPG format, visit http://www.angelfire.com/nv2/iloveheather/gijoe/gijoe.html, 

And thanks again to the MA/CN/PIC 

BATTLE FOR THE ARMORY 

As Hawk's watch struck 09:00 he strode out of the small side room and into the large auditorium like briefing room. Someone called the room to attention and instantly the room went quiet right after a large number of boot heels snapped together. Hawk headed for the stage and told everyone to take their seats as he came to a halt. As soon as he was behind the podium he began to speak, "As most of you know, a large Cobra database was raided two days ago. Each of you has already sat through the briefing yesterday concerning Cobra equipment and operatives. Now I'm briefing you on taking action. Among the data was several references pointing to an attack of some sort on our weapons production and storage facilities." As Hawk continued he pushed several buttons on a remote control that dimmed the lights in the large room and brought up and aerial shot of the complex. "Since we don't have any specifics we're going to set up assuming the worst. A multi pronged attack involving air, armor, and infantry assets. Our defensive force will be divided into three sections, an air support and combat air patrol unit that will be ready to launch at a moment's notice out of Nellis AFB, a combined arms armor and infantry team outside the complex, and a team of infantry and EODs inside the complex in case they revert to sabotage." Hawk switched slides, causing a list of names to appear. "The aerial team will consist of Slip Stream, Ghostrider, Dog Fight, and the following reservists; every two will team up to form Skystriker or Ghoststriker crews." The thought of the reservists went through Hawk's head. 'No Names' many of the key Joe members had coined them, that phrase ate at Hawk sometimes. After losing men under your command, there were no 'No Names' everybody had a name, a face, a story, and loved ones...you never forget that after you write a letter home. Mentally shaking himself he continued with another slide of names, "The Outside team will have these vehicle crews: Clutch, Steeler, Covergirl, Crankcase, Heavy Metal, Cross Country, Back Stop, Skidmark, Hotseat and the following reservists; each will perform crew duties for what ever available vehicles or weapons platforms they are rated at. The vehicles that we have on stand by are the following: MOBATs, VAMPs, Wolverines, Maulers, APCs, Whirlwinds, MMSs, FLAKs, Warthog AIFVs, and AWE Strikers." Hawk switched to another list of names. "These armor assets will be backed by the following infantry: Bazooka, Fast Draw, Repeater, Downtown, Back Blast, Rampart, Salvo, Heavy Duty and the following reservists." The slides switched to yet another list of names. "Should any direct assault fail and the cobras try to sabotage the facility with explosives, these demolitions experts will be inside to counter any saboteurs: Short Fuse, Zap, Tripwire, Tunnel Rat, Light Foot and the following reservists." The slides then switched to the picture of a captain in full Class A's. "This man is Captain Grid Iron. He will have full operational control of the facility, as he is commander of this mission and he is already on site putting the defense together." The slides then return to the facility. "Your action will be backed by the Army MPs who normally guard the facility as well as a full Army Ranger company." Hawk then took time to get into the specifics of each task; after his long winded outline of each part of the operation he made his final remarks "Grab your gear and head to the Tomahawks waiting on the helipad as soon as this briefing is concluded. Once on site assume the facility to be an active battle field. Stay alert, be smart. Good luck." With that said he exited the room as it is called to attention again. Once Hawk was gone, the group broke and left to gather their gear. 

As the briefing dismissed Ripcord headed back to his quarters. He hastily scooped up his olive drab ALICE gear and woodland camouflage ballistic vest. A small smile was brought to his face as he noticed 'WEEMS' stenciled in black along the back shoulders of the vest and memories of his time with the 82nd came to mind. The 'good old days', he let out a small laugh as that thought came to mind. He was only in his mid twenties and already referring to times less than a month ago as the 'good 'ole days'. As he put the equipment on he tried to banish the thoughts of the UK mission but to no avail. With a heavy sigh he scooped up his woodland kevlar and headed for the door. "Ignore it Weems. It's over and done. Suck it up and drive on soldier." After he had grabbed the gear from his quarters he headed down to the armory and checked out his weapons. A M-16A2 rifle with 9 magazines, a M-1911 pistol with 3 magazines, six anti-personnel fragmentation grenades, plus the defusal equipment. With the exception of the defusal kit and the lack of a LC-2 ruck it was a standard combat load out. No need for stealth on this mission. Once this thing blew up in their face, it would just be a matter of who died first. He made his way to the helipad where several Tomahawks where warming up. He spotted Covergirl sitting in one of the helicopters, dressed in an olive drab jumpsuit that was characteristic of all army vehicle crews. He climbed board the twin rotor aircraft and slid into the web seating next to Covergirl. The two sat silently in a sharp contrast to the rest of the helicopter's passengers. Ripcord looked around the cabin at the others. Up front were the two pilots Lift Ticket and Updraft. From the sound of it Lift Ticket was explaining the operations of the Tomahawk to Updraft. Directly across from Ripcord was Tripwire. The poor kid looked almost terrified. In addition to the normal BDU and ballistic equipment he wore goggles, heavy gloves, knee pads, elbow pads and was praying in some language Ripcord had never heard; Ripcord couldn't really blame him...if he'd known what was going happen before the UK mission he would've done the same. Next was Tunnel Rat, he had his legs sprawled out across the deck, and had his ballistic vest hanging open with two belts of 7.62mm rounds draped across his torso, he had the sleeves of his BDU top rolled up in a haphazard way, his helmet was discarded in favor of a bandana tied around his head, additionally his face and arms were covered in camouflage paint. Then there was Heavy Metal, he was in a tanker's jumpsuit but had a brown leather jacket on over the standard uniform. Next to him sat Clutch, he wore BDUs with the ballistic material but he had just a pistol as weapons went, he drove one of the VAMP jeeps, maybe that's why he didn't wear the normal jumpsuit. Then there was Heavy Duty, a monster of a man whose muscles showed clearly through his BDUs and currently had a black baseball cap on backwards, the build suggested a heavy weapons operator without a doubt. Next was Bazooka, pretty standard looking solider, Ripcord didn't know much about him, the guy had fallen asleep the second he hit the webbing. Tunnel Rat keep looking around like he was just hopping a bus to just another day at work, Ripcord knew that look, it was the look he had in the RAF C-130 before the HALO. Tripwire kept squeezing his hands around the pistol grip and foregrip of his rifle, Ripcord imagined his knuckles being whiter than snow under his thick gloves. Heavy Duty and Heavy Metal keep talking about the mission and how much ass they were gonna kick. At one point the two were actually taking bets on who would kill more. Clutch was trying his best to impress Covergirl but she remained almost as silent as Ripcord. Bazooka just slept the whole trip. Finally the massive structure of the facility loomed in the horizon. Ripcord could see hurried activity as the Tomahawk started to come down. As soon as they touched down he heard a man yelling. "Disembark! Disembark! Get into positions! We have multiple incoming!" The man stood out in the open in neatly pressed BDUs and spit-polished boots. He held no weapons and wore no ALICE gear or ballistic vest. The man even defiantly wore his softcap instead of his kevlar. The sun reflect light off of one of his fingers. More than likely a West Point ring Ripcord guessed as he already started disliking the officer. Ripcord reached over and gave Covergirl's forearm a reassuring squeeze and flash the warmest smile he had mustered since the before UK mission had started. "Make it through this thing in one piece Courtney." Despite the awkward wording of the one of the longest non-military sentences he'd mustered to her since the flight to the UK his eyes revealed the seriousness and heartfeltness of the comment. Without waiting for a response, he leapt from the Tomahawk and jogged between Tripwire and Tunnel Rat as the trio headed for the building in front of them. Along the way his switched his M-16 from 'safe' to '3RB' and charged the weapon. As he came closer and closer to the building he tried to reassure himself. 'Don't Think. Just React. It kept you alive last time it can keep you alive now.' Ripcord disappeared into the building. Once inside he one of the Rangers, a sergeant first class, started calling the EOD and other 'inside' personnel forward. He starting pairing people up and assigning them certain buildings around the complex to defend. Ripcord was teamed with another Joe by the name of Zap. Tunnel Rat was paired which Tripwire, who looked twice as bad now that they were on the ground. Tunnel Rat gave the Ranger a nasty look before he sneered at Tripwire. As the two headed towards their operational zone, spare parts warehouse, Tripwire tripped over his own feet; sending him sprawling across the concrete floor. No one doubted that under the layers of camouflage paint that Tunnel Rat's skin was red with anger. He gripped the M-60 that he carried tighter and shook his head as Tripwire stood up. As the two left the building Zap approached Ripcord. 

"Ripcord? Hey man, I'm Zap." The Joe said with a smile and extended hand. 

"Nice to meet you." Ripcord said as he shook hands. Zap was a pretty average looking Hispanic soldier that was dressed almost identically as Ripcord. He had to smile, it was nice to know there was another sane, practical explosives expert on the team. The biggest difference was the M-72 LAW rocket that Zap had strapped to his back. The other differences were minor but revealed a lot about the man's personality. First was the gold wedding ring on his hand and the cross that could be partially seen through his half open ballistic vest, dangling from his neck. The two walked towards their target, the control facility of the complex and exchanged small talk, Ripcord actually opened up because he needed to take his mind off of the coming events. The two basically talked about what they had done, who they were, until Zap hit a cord. 

"I heard you and Covergirl did quite a job over in England." But without the obvious excitement that the others had displayed. 

"I don't wanna talk about it." Ripcord said with a shake of his head. 

"Don't worry man, I know that it's rough, I lost my big brother in '72...Nam." Zap said in a lowered tone "I know war is hell, but I fight for what I believe in. So no matter how ugly it gets. I'll stay in. I'll more than likely do some things I'll regret but I know in my heart I'm doing the right thing and saving lives." The comment took Ripcord aback and was silent for a long moment before putting a hand on Zap's shoulder and smiling. 

"Thanks. I really mean that. I needed to hear that." Ripcord said with a renewed sense of pride, for the first time since the UK mission he felt better about what he had done. The two had finally reached the control center. Thankfully the captain was in a different part of the building. The two sat down against the walls in the central corridor and waited. Finally their personal radios sparked to life. The enemy was sight. Zap said a quick prayer in Spanish and crossed himself as he and Ripcord stood. "It's game time." Ripcord said as his face dropped into a mask like the one he wore in the UK. As explosions and the roaring of aircraft engines began to be heard; Ripcord let a grim smile cross his lips "No rest for the wicked." Zap nodded in agreement as the duo begin to watch the halls. 

"Operational briefing." Cover Girl replayed Law's order from General Hawk in her head. She couldn't help but outwardly smile mostly from exhaustion, being "punch drunk" as her grandfather used to call it. "This is not good." She pulled to attention with the others, trying to focus her eyes on the slides the General was showing. She caught her name as part of the Outside team, vehicle crews and smiled again. "Good old Wolverines." "Grab your gear and head to the Tomahawks waiting on the helipad as soon as this briefing is concluded. Once on site, assume the facility to be an active battle field. Stay alert, be smart. Good luck." General Hawk finished, as the room was called once again to attention. Cover Girl looked down at her rucksack contemplating for a second, before she shook her head and decided to go repack. She wanted to tell Ripcord to take care of himself as they headed out, but quickly lost sight of him in the sea of uniforms. "Was an honor, Skyboy. I'm glad you were okay." She said quietly, fearing her tired state would let her become over emotional and she veered left once in the main corridor towards the barracks. She repacked quickly and changed, pulling on the standard drab jumpsuit, still needing to hit the armory to turn in her old weapons, requisition new ones, then headed topside to take her second Tomahawk ride of the day, this time to some remote weapons factory. She managed a half smile when she saw Ripcord climb aboard and take the seat next to her. A fellow driver sat to her left, Clutch he said his name was, but she couldn't catch much else of what he was saying. Her ears detected a 'Why the Wolverine?' question, but she was in no mood for idle talk. Ripcord reached over and gave Covergirl's forearm a reassuring squeeze and flashed a warm smile that almost brought tears to her eyes. Almost. 

"Make it through this thing in one piece Courtney." He'd said, but she couldn't answer. As he released her forearm, she thought more about his being burned. She had winced at the sight of it, back in England, he should be home watching Wheel of Fortune or something, she told herself. Not heading back into another war zone. She watched as he disappeared into the building, pausing for a second before the Captain on the launch pad lit into her. 

"Quit your daydreaming, Missy!" He said, demeaningly. "Move it!" She rolled her eyes in anger, more at herself than at the officer, then ran to the motor pool with the rest of the gear heads. The motor pool was empty, just a decoy as they found out upon arrival. All of the heavy equipment, the Maulers, the AWE Strikers, her Wolverine had previously been moved into position and camouflaged. A Corporal was waiting with an APC to drop them at their prospective locals. Filing in the back of the cattle truck, she once again felt the adrenaline rush she experienced before. 

"ALMOST SHOWTIME!" Someone whooped, as more and more vehicles came into site. A sergeant rattled off names and vehicle assignments. As she'd hoped, she was issued a Wolverine, and given it's call sign numbers. The large, cat-tracked vehicle was a sight for sore eyes, and she ran a gloved hand over the United States sign on the walkway, before performing the standard vehicle safety check. She climbed up past the drivers seat, spot checking the wiring behind the maintenance access panel between the modular missile racks. They were in order, as were the firing systems. Some wise guy called out some sort of sexist comment that she completely ignored as she secured a few bolts on the drive and idler bogies. Funny how before she would have ripped into him herself, but now the words just rolled off her back. 

"Careful, Morgan." Someone else called out. "You know what they say about women driver's! Her Wolverine is parked right on your tail!" That statement alone was enough to spark laughter and comments from almost half of the peanut gallery. 

"Don't pay 'em no mind." A blonde soldier clad in a jumpsuit told her. "It's just we don't get a lot of women in armor." 

"Hey, Steeler!" Someone replied. "You don't GET a lot of women, period!" That set them off into another fit of hysterics. The young soldier blushed, and headed back to his Mauler tank. A few days ago, Cover Girl would have joked along side them, she could always hold her own with a sarcastic comment. She knew when she fought her way into the armor division, a field normally closed to females that she'd get flack, but it was just what she wanted to do. She could have used the nineteen and a half ton AMV the other night. Finishing her safety check, she unstrapped her kevlar helmet, and ran a hand through her hair, stopping to grind her eyes. She realized she was getting really hungry, the sandwich Ben brought on the plane was long gone. She was about to tear into one of her MRE packs, when a call from the front came out. 

"INCOMING VEHICLES!" The Shirt in charge called. "Nobody moves until my mark, repeat, hold fire, hold position until I call it. We want to flank them, boys, get them surrounded so hold position, just let them pass." She forgot about eating, and climbed into the Wolverine's cockpit, prepping the large craft to turn over at a moment's notice. 

"Promise this time." She said to herself. "Promise this time, I got your back, Skyboy." 

The gigantic superstructures of the A10 Complex stood proudly in the middle of nowhere. The gray of the steel and concrete drew a sharp constant between the surrounding woods and plains. The activity was fairly standard for the time of day, men in orange jumpsuits and yellow hard hats moving around like ants at their hill. Every now and then a faded yellow or gray forklift or truck zoomed along the roads scattered throughout the complex. The facility seemed completely oblivious to the threat that loomed just beyond it's horizons. From all sides legions of strange black vehicles with equally strange soldiers were closing in. Finally the radio transmission is sent out and the faster units break ahead as the order is given to charge the facility. A battle cry splits the night as the fanatical legions cry out as one "COBRA!!!!!" Alarms begin to sound and regular Army MPs armed with M-16A2s and driving HMMWVs start to rush out of their barracks. The Cobras surge forward confident that they can take care of a few glorified security guards. However unknown to the Cobras, a force equally as impressive as theirs lies in silent wait hidden among the complex. As the Cobra aircraft begin to start their runs on the facility a group of Joe aircraft were speeding along at treetop level just minutes away, headed to counter the Cobra planes. The seconds seem to extend into small eternities as the Cobras rush to reach firing range and the Joe wait till the last possible moments to spring there ambush.... 

As soon as the facility came into range the Cobras began pouring fire into the complex. The civilians began to run for cover as the MPs began to do what they could to defend the facility. In the command center Captain Gridiron stood watching the monitor, as he calmly sipped on a cup of coffee, seemingly without concern for the sounds of battle raging on outside. He still wore no combat gear, save a web belt with M-92F riding on his hip. He didn't need to, he told himself; his logic was simple, 'this isn't the thirteenth century, commanders should stay back, let the squad leaders be the battlefield commanders.' Waiting patiently for the right moment he repeated the simpliness of his plan 'It's a simple ambush, just like at The Point, only bigger. And as soon as we destroy these Cobra upstarts we can leave this god-forsaken piece of nowhere and get back to the base. Plus, this will bump my standing with the General up quite a bit.' A bead of sweat rolled down the temple of one of the Ranger communication people that were manning the huge control board. 

"Sir, the MPs and civilians are taking heavy loses." Myer, one of the operators said in a hurried tone. 

"If the enemy hasn't reached the chokepoint yet then don't commit our troops, no need to lose the element of surprise." Gridiron said with a shrug. He continued to watch the screens as a few of the Stingers and Ferrets started to enter the base. As he slowly set down his coffee cup he spoke in a slow, even voice. "Give the command." 

A Stinger hit the fence at almost full speed, tearing the chain link apart in a shower of sparks. The soldier inside launched one of his missiles at a nearby MP HMMWV and smiled as it exploded. With a screaming of tires he turned the Stinger nearly on a dime as he raced the jeep down one of the canyons created by the buildings. He mused over the simpliness of the operation as the Stinger accelerated. Everything was going according to plan. Until it happened. Something burst through the aluminum wall of one of the buildings. The soldier slammed on the brakes as the dark green behemoth of a tank came onto the street. He started to line up his shot on the MOBAT. The last thing the soldier saw was the flash of the tank's massive cannon. The shell impacted on the Stinger side and literally blew the vehicle apart. The MOBAT moved forward and drove right through the fire and secondary explosions left by the Stinger. The sight caused another Stinger to freeze, as the MOBAT speed forward like a demon stepping out of the gates of hell. All around the complex vehicles and soldiers began to come almost literally out of the woodwork. The Cobra's state of mind immediately began more serious by a thousand fold. 

At eight miles and closing fast, the group of Skystrikers and Ghoststrikers screamed along at tree top height. Suddenly the channels came to life with reports that facility was under attack. Then came the report for the ground forces to attack. "Full afterburner people! If we don't get there soon the Cobra air unit will tear apart our ground units." Ghostrider, who lead the air operations, said. Almost immediately the forest below them was suddenly free of the noise of jet engines. The planes shot across the sky without a sound, until seconds after their passing, a bone shaking explosion tore through the air. As aircraft approached a small line of hills they pulled up and powered up their active radars. 

The Rattler pilot smiled in satisfaction as Joe Mauler exploded under his HUD after raking the tank with fire from the aircraft's massive 30mm cannon. As he turned to make another run his radar shot to life. His eyes widened as he called out over the air group's channels "Contact! Mult-" the transmission was cut off as the Rattle disappeared in a fireball as an AIM-120 missile had leapt from a Ghoststriker's launch rail and impacted with the radar housed in the nose cone of the Rattler. The battle had now begun... 

When they could hear the roar of enemy engines, the Sergeant gave the signal to ready the vehicles. "Engine Check. Engine check," She said aloud, flipping various switches, "Right track, right track. Left, left, platform, check.." it was all set. She took the torn snake insignia from one of her pockets, squeezing it once again in her palm. For the first time she noticed the dried blood which had crusted over on it, which sent a shiver up her spine as she returned it to her pocket. At least it was some feeling. Maybe not remorse, but something. 

"HOLD POSITION!" The Sergeant yelled into the radio, as some of the vehicle drivers were getting antsy. "HOLD POSITION, DAMNIT." She closed her eyes for a second, concentrating on breathing. They jerked open when she heard the first rocket fired, their side, not hers. By now, she knew the enemy had a name, Cobra. She twitched her one knee impatiently, clenching and unclenching fists, ready to go on the first signal. More shots fired, still no word to move. 

"C'mon, C'mon, C'mon…" She whispered, focusing on the clearing beyond the trees. The snakes were all over the building, crashing through the gates. "Send us in, boys…. Give the word…." Seconds dragged on, the sounds of battle becoming more evident. This time the sounds weren't coming from the building below, but from the ground in front of them, the kind of fighting she had trained for. The image in her mind flashed back to seeing the Stinger fire a missile into the building, hearing the explosions. "Keep it together, Krieger, keep it together." She started feeling dizzy, almost lightheaded, until she finally remembered to let the breath out she was holding, concentrating again on breathing. One final explosion, and the call came through the communicator build into her helmet. 

"GO, GO, GO, MOVE IT!" The AWE Strikers, being the lightest and fastest of the vehicles were in first, followed by Clutch and the rest of his VAMP crew. Topping out at 33 mph, the Wolverines were to come in behind them. A blue jet, much like an A-10 'Warthog' only with misplaced engines, with the tell tale sign of the snake near the cockpit, and more weapons than she could count. Air to air, air to surface missiles, and what looked like a rapid fire, multi barreled anti-tank gun mounted on the nose. Bullets streamed from the pair of dorsal mounted weapons, ripping through one of the VAMPs, which stopped dead in its tracks. The barrage tore up the vehicle like it was a ragtop. She could see the driver inside slumped over the steering wheel, blood spraying the hood of the vehicle. On the back, Morgan's body twitched as he still clutched the 7.62 mm machine guns. She cursed and looked away, not wanting to see the shocked faces of the soldiers, the first ones of her own. Another stream of bullets started hitting the ground dangerously close to a MOBAT, snapping her back to reality. 

"Air-Bogey 1 is mine!" She called into the communicator, while checking the pop-up display and aiming one of the 12 anti-tank, anti-personnel missiles. The MOBAT commander abandoned his vehicle with seconds to spare, one more lost to the aircraft. He began running towards a nearby tree cluster for cover as his driver was shot while trying to escape the forward hatch. The sounds of battle ceased as she lined up for firing, "Easy…. Easy…" She told herself, lining up to hit the jet's left wing. "On target, on target…" Her right thumb flipped the covering on missile 12, and her index finger fired the single shot. Hitting the wing meant her missile would connect with the heavy arsenal of weapons the jet was carrying, exploding immediately on impact, not giving the pilot a chance to bail out or crash. She shielded her eyes as the jet exploded in a fiery ball, much like something you'd see on the 4th of July. There was the pilot, and there had also been a gunner seated in the turret. Two more kills added to her list. "CONTACT! Air Bogey 1 down." She called. That's when she saw the pieces of the MOBAT commander scattered in the ground to her left. He didn't make it. "Fuck" She cursed, slamming a fist into the side of the Wolverine. She blinked hard as the sounds of the battle returned to her, and she noticed the AWE Strikers taking a pretty bad beating, as were the armory buildings themselves. She launched two more missiles, one taking out a HiSS, one missing its target completely as the Stinger she aimed for launched it's own counter. On the horizon, she could see the approaching jets, hoping they were the Skystrikers and Ghoststrikers, not more Rattlers. Never before had she seen one craft carry so much destruction, she hoped she wouldn't see it again. 

Ripcord and Zap both started to become more aware of their surroundings as the explosions outside became more frequent and violent. Their eyes searched up and down the long corridor which was lined with doors leading off to side offices. The only other people visible were two teams of two Rangers stationed at each door on the ends of the corridor which lead outside. As the two Joes waited they listened in on the radio traffic. Gridiron had insisted on having central command of the operation, so any transmissions outside team level were routed through the Captain's Command Center, which was below where the Joes stood, in the basement of the Command Center. First the cobras attacked then the Joes moved to counter attack. So far that was all they knew. Apparently Gridiron liked to keep a tight rope on all but mission sensitive transmissions. It was because of this that two were caught off guard when the north door was peppered with heavy machine gun fire. The shells punched through the metal door and the surrounding concrete and reducing the two unfortunate Rangers into little more that scraps of flesh and a fine pink mist. It was then that Ripcord noticed the impact marks on the floor walking down the length of the hallway, toward the two Joes. "Down!" Ripcord screamed as he tackled the dumfounded Zap off to the side of the hallway as they were assaulted by small chunks of concrete that were kicked up as the bullets struck the floor. Suddenly the gunfire stopped but the silence was short lived as an explosion sounded and the northern door disappeared in a dense cloud of smoke and debris. As the wind raised outside by the air battle, the cloud cleared and a Frag Viper stepped through and began to raise up a MGL-MK1 rotary magazine grenade launcher. Ripcord brought his M-16 up and fired two quick bursts at the enemy whose chest erupted with blood as the bullets hit. As more of the smoke cleared a HiSS was seen backed up to the exit, with Vipers quickly pouring out of the HiSS' ramp. Thankfully the two .50 caliber machine guns on the turret were turned away, firing wildly at some unseen threat. As Ripcord and Zap began to pick off the Vipers with their M-16s the HiSS' turret began to turn in the direct of the hallway again. "Hit it Zap!" Ripcord yelled out. 

"On it!" Zap returned as he quickly shook the tube of the M-72 off of his shoulder and brought the weapon in line with the HiSS. "Clear!" Zap yelled as he punched the button on the top of the LAW. The light missile would barely have done a thing if it hit the thick outer armor of the enemy APC., Zap knew this and adjusted accordingly. The missile streaked out of the tube and towards the HiSS and flew into the gapping troop compartment. The missile exploded in a small fireball, but inside the narrow confines of the HiSS it was devastating. The ramp and the insides were coated in fire. The still deploying Vipers were cut down as the HiSS turned the LAW into a shape charge blowing outwards. The turret operator slumped over on the guns, his body engulfed in flames. Ripcord reached over and high-fived Zap as the two grinned and shouted out. 

"Yeah!" They yelled in unison. They looked at the flames that covered the ground around the hole the Frag Viper had made. 

"Let's see 'em try to come through that." Zap said with a nod towards the burning wreckage. Ripcord nodded in agreement as he looked beyond the destroyed HiSS and saw a Wolverine roll over the wreckage of a Stinger, firing it's missiles into the distance. Despite not being able to see the driver, Ripcord just somehow knew it was Covergirl and grinned. A sudden realization stuck Ripcord as he turned toward the south door and yelled to the Rangers that were crouched down near the door. 

"Fall back! Get over here now!" he called out as the two Ranger PFCs ran towards the Joe's positions. 

"Hit the deck!" Zap yelled as he saw the realization of Ripcord's logic. A like a sick mimic of the first one, the southern door caved in under a hail of .50cal slugs. The Rangers stayed prone and to the sides as the gunfire walked up the corridor once more. The gunfire stopped. "Move!" Zap yelled as a prediction of his own sprang into his head. The Rangers began to run again and dived prone as the southern wall exploded. While the Joes waited for the smoke to clear the Rangers finished their sprint and took a knee behind the Joes, waiting for the targets to come into view. As expected the Vipers began pouring into the corridor from a HiSS, some stayed in the corridor while others ran into side offices. This group of Vipers began taking cover and returning fire, more than likely warned by a last second transmission from the first HiSS. Once again the turret began to strafe towards the four soldiers. "We're history if that thing makes us!" Zap yelled, knowing without any more LAWs that the group was a write-off. 

"Cover me!" Ripcord yelled out as he dove prone in the center of the corridor, switching his M-16 to semi-automatic as he hit the floor. 

"Rip, you crazy mot-" Zap yelled then stopped, figuring he could complain or do his best to cover his teammate. "Keep the Vipers down!" Zap yelled to the Rangers as he began to rake suppressive fire at the Vipers' positions. The red uniform of the HiSS crew member stood out against the black metal of the HiSS as Ripcord sighted on the turret operator's legs standing on a raised platform inside the troop compartment. Sighting carefully, ignoring the firefight raging around him as best he could, Ripcord squeezed the trigger three times. Crimson showers sprang forth from the turret operator's knee, thigh, and a final eruption of blood from the man's crotch. Ripcord almost swore he heard the blood curdling scream despite the noises of the firefight and the distance between the two. The operator fell from the turret, into the troop compartment and began squirming in pain on the metal floor of the HiSS. Ripcord ignored the three distinct blood splatters that stood out on the wall of the HiSS and starting firing on the Vipers. But this time they kept coming. There was no fire to keep infantry at bay. The four kept trading fire with the Vipers. Every now and then a Viper would slump down. Thankfully none of the remaining soldiers had been hit. The firefight was a stalemate. Ripcord's earlier stunt had put him roughly ten feet in front of the others. Ripcord never saw it coming. Zap watched as a Frag Viper burst through the door of a side office slightly behind Ripcord and swung a G-41 assault rifle in line with Ripcord. Zap was able to squeeze off one hasty round as he yelled out. "Rip! Watch out!" The bullet connected with the barrel and the German assault rifle went skidding across the concrete. Losing his weapon didn't phase the Cobra, he dove at Ripcord. Ripcord barely had begun to turn his head when the Frag Viper impacted with him. His body slamming against the wall wasn't that bad. The Frag Viper's shoulder connecting with his burnt forearm was another story. Ripcord inhaled sharply and his eyes widened as the M-16 slipped from his grip. The two fell to the ground, struggling; the Frag Viper began to assault Ripcord's kidneys with punches while Ripcord wrapped his hands around the Frag Viper's throat. Zap and the two Rangers watched but couldn't do much else, Ripcord and Viper were too close for a safe shot and if they stopped firing at the Vipers further down the hall, the enemy might advance. Giving up on the punches the enemy began to use one hand to push Ripcord's head up while using the other to break away the one of the hands clamped around his neck. The Frag Viper spotted his possible salvation in the bandages and plastic that snaked around Ripcord's left forearm. He began to use a hand to claw at the burnt flesh under the bandages. He succeeded. The bandages almost immediately turned a deep crimson and blood began to drip on the floor, Ripcord's BDU sleeve, and run down into Ripcord's glove. The paratrooper howled out as the intense pain shot through his body. That pushed him over the edge. He bit down on the gloved hand on his jaw, his teeth tearing through the fabric and drawing blood. He slammed his knee into the Frag Viper's crotch then used it to vault the body off and over him. The sad sniffling sound from inside the enemy's helmet didn't stop Ripcord from twisting over and taking hold of the Frag Viper's helmet. Ripcord twisted with all his might. 

"Motherfucker!" Ripcord yelped as tears of pain rolled down his cheeks and a disturbing snapping sound was heard as the Frag Viper's neck was twisted beyond the limits of human motion. Ripcord stood and stumbled into the same room as the Frag Viper burst from. Ripcord leaned against the wall and slid down it. He looked at his arm, which was now caked in blood. After taking a moment to check himself, making sure it was only deep tissue damage, and nothing threatening; he used his anger and sense of duty to press the pain into the back of his mind as best he could. "Where the hell did you come from?" Ripcord asked to no one as he glanced around the room. His question was answered by two gapping holes in opposite walls. The Cobras were blasting through the offices. Ripcord didn't realize it. He must have thought the explosions were just the battle outside. Then another horrifying thought came to mind. "The Command Center!" Ripcord shouted as he shot to his feet. He started to charge through one of the holes when he realized his M-16 was still in the hallway. He inched towards the doorway and saw the terrible crossfire. "No way..." he said as he thought of his chances of trying to get to his rifle. Suddenly a missile slammed into the HiSS, destroying it and the Vipers in a large fireball. He immediately thought of Covergirl. He wished it was her. He hoped it was her. If she was outside he knew nothing else would get into the Command Center. He stepped into the hallway and scooped up his rifle. 

"Christ Wally, are you okay?" Zap said as he stared at the blood stains on Ripcord's arm and mouth. 

"Don't worry about me. The Control Room may have been compromised, we need to get down there now." Ripcord said as he ran for the stairwell. Ripcord and Zap along with Smith and Greer, the two Rangers, ran down the flight of stairs and into the hallway of the basement. They heard gunfire right off the bat. They sprinted down the hall, towards the Control Center. They carefully stacked up as Ripcord took a quick look inside. There were three Vipers behind an overturned metal table trading fire with a Ranger in a mirror image position on the other side of the room. Ripcord and Zap burst in and cut down the Vipers who had their backs turned towards the door. 

"Don't shoot! I'm American!" The Ranger shouted. He stepped out from behind the overturned table. He was dressed in BDUs but had a Viper's blood stained ballistic vest strapped to his chest. His only weapon was a G-41, more than likely taken off the same Viper his vest was from. "I'm Specialist Myer, I was one of the communications men here." 

"Holy shit, what happened here?" Smith asked as he looked around the room, seeing multiple U.S. soldiers and Vipers alike laying dead around the large command center. Myer started to answer but Ripcord held up a hand. 

"No time, where's Gridiron?" Ripcord asked in a hurried voice. Myer pointed behind the table he'd been using for cover. Gridiron lay with a bullet wound to his right shoulder and a nasty black and blue area on his temple. Ripcord checked his pulse. He was alive. Barely. "Greer see what you can do to patch up Gridiron." Ripcord began to spit out his words rapid fire and point to individuals as they were named. "Zap, Smith go out and watch the hall in case we missed someone. Myer do you know who was next in command?" Myer nodded and opened up binder sitting on the ledge of one of the control panels. 

"Next in the see-o-see is the Ranger company commander here, Captain Thompkins, Ranger Actual." Without having to be told, Myer began to punch in the channel for the Ranger One infantry platoon. "Ranger Actual, Ranger Actual, do you read, over?" 

"The Capt'n's dead so's top and the el-tee. We're gettin' cut up bad..." Came back the response from a very worried and very young sounding voice. Once again Myer didn't have to be told as his gaze dropped down to the next line. 

"Commander of Tank Platoon One, Steeler, Rumble Actual." Myer quickly punched in the number and transmitted. "Rumble Actual, Rumble Actual, do you read over?" 

The Ghoststrikers couldn't do much about the battle on the ground, not unless they wanted to rain "friendly fire" down on their teammates, but it seemed Cobra didn't worry about creating their own casualties. A Stinger Missile intended for Covergirl's Wolverine ended up taking out a nearby Cobra Vehicle, she thought she heard someone call a STUN. A VAMP flanking her right disabled the Stinger, helping save her remaining missiles for larger targets. Clutch flashed her a quick thumbs up and she gave him a two finger "thanks" salute before he pulled off to aid another vehicle. 

"Ground Support to the Command Center, now!" The call came through the radio. Seven rockets left Covergirl counted. In the confusion of battle, she had lost track of how many she had fired, but looking back, she could see the seven missiles. She switched her helmet com-link on and made the call back. 

"Wolverine Foxtrot Tango Echo Mike, Foxtrot Tango Echo Mike, repositioning to Command Center, repeat, Repositioning to the command center!" She called out. 

"Copy Echo Mike." She switched the com-link off. "C'mon Mike." She named the Wolverine after it's final call letter, giving it a slight pat on the control panel. "Let's get in there." For good measure, she aimed her cat tracks at the torn apart Stinger, rolling over it like it were a speed bump, before firing two missiles at a HiSS tank off in the distance. "Five left." She reminded herself. Just Five." The closer she got to the building, the worst things looked. Flaming wreckages everywhere, buildings leveled, vehicles destroyed, bodies littering the ground. "Holy Shit" She said, looking around. Her eyes scanned the Command Center, the building she had seen Ripcord enter when they first landed. Walls, doors, windows were blown out. Her heart started to sink, until she remembered Big Ben's words from last time… 'He's a big boy, Lass, I'm sure he'll turn up just fine.' But that was when he was 100%, not injured and exhausted. She hoped Big Ben's words would still ring true. Behind her, two slower moving Mauler and MOBAT tanks started closing in, also advancing to help protect the Command Center. Off in the distance were two HiSS vehicles, causing some havoc of their own to one of the smaller office buildings, vehicles taken out by two of her Wolverine Missiles. "Five left." She reminded herself. "Just Five" Her eyes scanned the area for her next target, the sounds of the battle once again lost. She caught sight of some sort of personnel carrier, black off in the distance, closing in on the Command Center. "Reinforcements…" She half questioned, half stated. A quick check through her binoculars showed the tell tale sign of the snake on the drivers chest, and she hit the pop up display, lining the vehicle in her sites. The vehicle was huge, probably capable of carrying 30, 40 troopers, easy. Her thumb switched the coverings on missiles Five, Four, and Three, but her finger hesitated a second before launching. 30 or 40 troopers, 30 or 40… people. She wrestled with her conscience for only a split second. People that would gun her, Ripcord, or any of the others down in a second. In rapid-fire succession, she launched the three missiles, watching them land right on mark. The machine gun fire ricocheting off the back of the Wolverine's armor helped prevent even a second of remorse. She cursed out loud and she slid down as far as she could inside the half exposed cockpit. Keeping low and spinning around, she could see it was one of their own, an AWE Striker, doing the firing. "What the Fuck?" She asked, ducking from another bullet barrage. She hated taking out one of their own vehicles, but obviously it wasn't one of their own driving, or firing for that matter. "C'mon, Mike!" She said to her "partner," spinning his main battle turret 180 degrees. She didn't bother aiming, the AWE Striker was in close enough range to be destroyed by the large missile. Who ever was driving obviously didn't know the Wolverine had full range firing capability. She looked back to see the explosion, her heart still racing from the near misses of the machine gun fire. One missile left. She flipped on her com-link… "Wolverine, Foxtrot, Tango, Echo, Mike, requesting reloading over." 

"Copy Echo Mike. Pull west, 929, repeat, west 929, will deploy crew." 

"Copy." She hated pulling off, but one missile was just too few to mess around with. She took aim at a final HiSS, which managed to pull away before getting hit, and she once again cursed, hated wasting her final missile. Two tanks seemed to be doing a good enough job covering for her at the Command center, so she pulled to the assigned coordinates to await the missile crew. She grabbed her gear and hopped out of the vehicle, not wanting to act like a sitting duck should any snakes see the large vehicle in the wooded area. She fell back deeper into the wooded area, to maintain better cover. Now armed only with a pistol, she felt almost helpless, but the bullet hole in the sleeve of her loose fitting jumpsuit reminded her that even small projectiles can do some serious damage. She wasn't hit, but she hadn't known they came that close. She unholstered her weapon, noticing her right hand shaking with the weight of it. Left over from the vibration of the Wolverine, she rationalized. That's all it was. She leaned against one of the many trees, trying not to look back as the battle raged on, grinding her eyes to stay alert, focused. The twig snapping wasn't enough warning for her to react, a pair of gloved hands grabbed her from behind. One arm wrapped around her throat, the other grabbed her left shoulder tight enough for her to feel his fingers digging through her muscle, almost to the bone. Another soldier's hand grabbed hers, still holding the pistol, slamming it repeatedly into the tree she was leaning against. Crying out, she was forced to release the small pistol, but the gloved man didn't let up. 

"Well, well, well." The second soldier commented, picking up her weapon and stepping into view. He was dressed in black fatigues, black helmet and face shield, with the small, red, Cobra insignia the left breast of his jacket. "What do we have here?" He pulled off his mask to get a better look, while the soldier behind her squeezed her throat a bit tighter, making it harder to breathe. She cursed herself for not paying better attention, for letting her guard down the one split second it took for them to be on her. The Cobra in front of her ran his index finger under her chin and up the side of her cheek as she tried to pull away. Struggling only made the soldier behind her hold tighter. "Normally…" the trooper in front of her continued, grabbing her chin to force her to make eye contact with him, "We'd just kill you. You should be honored." She gritted her teeth, and gave what she hoped to be her best "show-no-fear" look, which just made the trooper laugh. "She's got some fire." He said, degradingly. "A perfect play thing for Bludd." She tensed again, making the snickering trooper behind her tighten his grip yet again. "But what do you say we take this tank driver out for a little test drive ourselves, first?" His smile made her sick, quickly her fear turned to anger, to rage as he leaned in closer. Inhaling all the oxygen she could get, she gave the trooper in front of her a high, hard front kick to the groin, causing him to double over in pain. The trooper behind her fell into a fit of hysterics but didn't let up no matter how hard she struggled, holding fast. Once again she cursed herself, this time for not being strong enough to over power him. The doubled over trooper tried to catch his breath, tried to save face in front of his comrade. "You… You Bitch!" He spat, raising her pistol to her, point blank range. "Die!" She closed her eyes tight and heard the shot go off. A second or two passed before she opened one eye, realizing she was not the one who'd been shot. The Cobra in front of her stood wide eyed and pale, his hands raised to shoulder length, and back arched. A stream of crimson ran from his mouth. Covergirl could hear the gurgling from his throat as he fell forward into her, rolling his eyes back into his head, and all life left his body. The soldier holding her now began her as a shield, ducking his head behind hers. He released her left shoulder, grabbing his own pistol and pressing it into her temple. 

"Show yourself!" He called out. "Show yourself, or the girl here, she gets it." She stared blankly as the Cobra in front of her slumped to the ground, hardly aware that there was yet another gun aimed at her skull. The cold steel let her know he was serious, but she also knew he couldn't kill her. Doing so would just leave him as a target himself, and her basic training instinct kicked in. She let herself go completely limp, her sudden dead weight catching him off guard and causing him to lose his grip and drop her to the ground. Exposed, out in the open, he didn't stand a chance against the semi-automatic fire which ripped into his body. Covergirl covered her head, but not before getting hit with what seemed to be a wave of crimson fluid. The trooper fell backward to the ground, his body still twitching. She wiped off her cheek with the back of her hand, cringing as she thought about the dead trooper running his fingers across it. She stayed down for a second, dazed, before low crawling to the first trooper and grabbing her weapon. The soldiers responsible for saving her still hadn't shown themselves, and she wasn't taking any more chances. Finally, two soldiers emerged, both in full combat gear, one standing cover, the other knelt down by Covergirl. 

"Are you all right?" He asked, putting his hand on her left shoulder, but she could barely hear him. She still felt the strong grip of the Cobra trooper holding her arm, felt the barrel of the gun pressed to her skull, and her breathing got harder. She stared at the blood which covered her hand, blood which came from the fallen Cobra trooper and shrugged her teammate off, not being able to answer. "Hey!" He repeated. "Are you all right?" Wide eyed and still in shock, she still didn't reply. "Repeater!" He called out. "Get the medic!" The mention of a medic snapped her back into reality. 

"No…. I'm… I'm fine." She managed to get out, rolling on her back and sitting up. The soldier gave her a hand to her feet, and handed her a rag to wipe her face. 

"Here…" he said, almost gently. "You have a little…" he made a wipe-your-face gesture. "Are you hit anywhere?" 

"No… " she repeated. "I'm… I'm fine." 

"Good thing me and Repeater were tracking those two… The name's Fast Draw, good thing I was, huh, Fast on the Draw?" He told her, holding onto her arm and walking for more cover, going on, but she wasn't listening. 'You… you Bitch! ….. Die!' played over in her head, she could still see the barrel in front of her, and her whole body jerked, hearing the gun shot. "Whoa!" Fast Draw said. "You sure you're fine?" She wiped off her face, turning his handkerchief a deep red, and nodded. 

"Yeah, I just… just need to get back to my…" What was it called? "My Wolverine." He looked at her, head tilted to the side, and she put on her best game face, throwing in a small smile. 

"Reload crew is dead." He said, matter of fact, as they headed towards where the Wolverine still rested. "But I can give you a hand. Just have to get the quad here running…" If anything could snap her back, it was the thought of working on an engine, driving something new. Fast Draw hopped onto the Quad, trying to kick start it with no avail. Avoiding gazing at the two soldiers lying lifeless nearby, Covergirl listened to the sound of the engine trying to turn over, and figured out the problem. Was simple to fix, fuel uptake line was snapped, so she grabbed a roll of electrical tape from her small ALICE pack and wrapped it around the broken hose. "Look at that…. " He commented, but she didn't answer. Behind the quad was the small arsenal she needed to reload the Wolverine. Fast Draw helped her load the twelve missiles, while again, Repeater provided cover. "All right, Babe" He told her. "You're all set." He started making another wipe-your-face gesture, but dropped it, instead offering a wink. "Me and Repeater could never resist a damsel in distress." She shot him a hard look, but then softened. He wasn't the one she was mad at. 

"Thanks." She told him, giving him the same left-handed two finger salute she gave to Clutch a few hours ago, though by now it felt like days. She climbed back into the Wolverine, giving it a reassuring pat. For the first time, she noticed her swollen hand, and tried to clench it into a fist. It was sore, but nothing broken, just a little banged up, She took a few practice shots, flipping up and down the missile button covers. "Suck it up, Krieger." She told herself, not fully meaning the pain in her hand. Switching on her com-link, she made the call. "Wolverine Foxtrot Tango Echo Mike, returning to Command Center, repeat, Foxtrot Tango Echo Mike returning to Command Center." 

"This is Rumble actual, over." A voice came over a static filled frequency. 

"You are now in command Rumble actual. Out." Ripcord leaned over and said into the microphone. He then turned to Myer, "Myer open up the frequency, our people are getting cut to pieces because of that dumb motherfucker." Ripcord said, his voice dripping with scorn as he pointed at the prone form of Gridiron. "Maybe between Steeler and being able to coordinate resources we can hold out." Myer nodded and pressed a series of buttons on the panel. Suddenly everyone's radios came alive with overlapping transmissions. It didn't sound good. Requests for support. Cries for help. Static and gunfire laden transmissions. From what filtered in Ripcord was able to get a picture of what happening outside. The skies were almost free of Cobras but the ground still crawled with them. After everyone on the channels realized the main frequency was open they started coordinating. Steeler's voice began to come in over the frequency. 

"Command Three here, uhh...okay...We need to consolidates our forces. I want everyone to fall back into the complex and take up defensive positions. Their advantage lies in speed and maneuverability, if we can draw 'em into the tight spaces of the facility's buildings then they'll lose that advantage, out." A little shaky at first Ripcord thought but judging by the way his voice rose in firmness and volume by the end of the command, he'd do fine. Then a new voice came over the airwaves. 

"Command One, Command One, this is Alamo, do you read, over." The voice called out over the channel. Myer looked up at Ripcord then over to Gridiron, then back to Ripcord. Ripcord leaned over and keyed the microphone again. 

"Alamo, this is Guard one-seven, Command one is hit, I say again, Command one is hit, over." 

"Guard one-seven, we need to extract command one, way point is outside of Command Center, can you comply, over." 

"What ever happened to the Captain goin' down with the ship?" Ripcord grumbled to himself, not intending to get answer. Myer answered. 

"Look, I know he's a dick and a sorry excuse for an officer but he's got operational knowledge. He can't be taken prisoner." Myer said in a defeated tone. 

"Greer can he be moved?" Ripcord asked as the Ranger finished wrapping the battle dressing around Gridiron's shoulder wound. 

"Yeah, his collar bone is broken, no exit wound so he's carrying the five-five-sixer in him still, he's taken a butt-stroke to the head, might lead to a concussion but yeah he can be moved." Came the reply from Greer. Ripcord nodded and keyed the microphone once again. 

"Alamo, this is guard one-seven, we can comply, stand by over." Ripcord didn't wait for a response. He called Zap and Smith back in. Taking a look at the four soldiers in the room he began to speak, "Okay, we have to get Gridiron topside for evac, a team is waiting just outside to pick him up. Greer grab Gridiron. Let's move." Zap obviously shared Ripcord's thoughts on Gridiron as a deep exhale was let out. Greer leaned down and scooped Gridiron up in a fireman's carry, with that the four soldiers headed back towards the first floor. As they reached the top of stairwell Ripcord inched carefully into the main corridor, his gaze stopping momentarily on the prone Frag Viper. Shaking off the memory he eased out into the corridor. The first thing he noticed was that the fires around the twin HiSS wreckages on the ends of the hallway had died down to passable levels. Good he thought. That made getting out a little bit easier. Ripcord spotted the dark green shapes of a Mauler and a MOBAT outside of one of the holes. With a final look up and down the hallway Ripcord looked back into the stairwell and waved the others out. Ripcord began to head towards the hole as Myer started to exit the stairwell. The sound of wood splintering cut through the air as Ripcord spun around. He couldn't stop it. A Viper burst through an office door just behind the stairwell door. The Cobra fired two quick shots from his G-41. Ripcord saw Myer fall forward letting out a sharp grunt. Ripcord yelled out as he raised his rifle and fired a three round burst right at the Viper's head. Their was a shattering sound as the three rounds punched through the Viper's reflect plexiglass faceplate. The Viper fell backwards, the rounds and the destroyed plexiglass turning the Viper's face into an unrecognizable mass of twisted flesh. Ripcord didn't even concern himself with checking the Viper, he immediately rushed to Myer's side as the others poured out of the stairwell and also surrounded the injured Ranger. Ripcord reached down and flipped Myer over. He could feel the communications soldier shaking under his grip. Ripcord didn't see an exit wound or large blood splatter on his torso as he had expected to. Then Ripcord noticed the trail of blood flowing from Myer's mouth and the blood dripping out from under the Viper's ballistic vest he wore. Ripcord reached down and tore open the vest. There it was. The bullets had struck Myer mid-abdomen. Blood was everywhere. Ripcord saw Myer looking up at him. 

"I...I...I'm n....not...gon....gonna....ma....make...it..." Myer said as his lips and eyes shook. 

"You're gonna make it man, hang in there." Ripcord said, squeezing Myer's hand. He turn to the others. "Zap, Smith pick him up. Get him outside now. He'll evac with Gridiron." As Ripcord moved away from Myer to let the others pick up the fallen soldier, his gaze drifted outside the other hole. Where a HiSS was coming to a halt. The wreckage of the HiSS destroyed by Zap's LAW blocked it from bringing it's machine guns into play but more Vipers began to deploy from the rear ramp of the Cobra APC. "Move! Now! I'll cover you!" Ripcord called out has he aimed his M-16 down the corridor. 

Zap and Smith each grabbed one of Myer's arms and threw it around their shoulders as they began to half-carry half-drag Myer outside, Greer was already ahead of them, carrying Gridiron. Zap heard M-16 fire open up behind him. He didn't dare look back. He just jogged towards the opening moving as fast as he could while carrying the wounded Ranger. "Vaya con dios mi hermano." Zap said under his breath as he stepped outside. The scene outside was horrible. Before they had only caught glimpses of the destruction through the holes in the wall, now the full impact of the damage was seen. Bodies, vehicle wreckage, and destroyed buildings littered the once proud facility. Zap looked around, he spotted a Mauler and MOBAT standing sentry. What he saw next confused him. He had seen plenty of strange vehicles and uniforms from fighting Cobra but never anything like this group. But their vehicles were marked with UNITED STATES and the Mauler and MOBAT weren't firing on them. That was good enough for Zap. He shot a glance at Myer. The kid was getting worse by the minute. He heard him mumble something about 'wanting his mama' there were also tear lines running down his cheeks. The blood wasn't stopping either. Myer was dying. He needed help right now. "Don't worry man, It'll be over soon. We're gonna get you to a nice medic." As Zap approached the odd vehicles he looked up at a man in a strange bulky orange and black camouflage suit, standing in of the vehicles. "I hope to God you're Alamo." Zap said. 

"Where's Gridiron?" The man asked. Greer moved up and laid Gridiron on one of the vehicles, a four wheeled vehicle with a two large machine guns on the back. 

"This one goes too." Zap said, not willing to take 'no' as an answer. He and Smith then gently set Myer up on the same odd vehicle as Gridiron. Zap then turned to Greer and Smith. "You guys go too. This is gonna get ugly. You guys never signed on for shit like this." The two Rangers reluctantly nodded and climbed abroad the a strange tank-like vehicle that had a large machine gun and radar assemble on the back of it. The leader of 'Alamo' got back on his jeep-like vehicle and the group sped off in the direction of the helipad. Looking back towards the hole in the command center, Zap unslung his M-16 and sprinted towards the opening. "I'm comin' for ya bro." 

Ripcord was running low. He had 15. Make that 12, rounds left in his current magazine. And only two more magazines left. No way he could hold out much longer alone against these odds. Too bad the Frag Viper had only blown through to the Stairwell, other he might have been able to pull the same flanking maneuver on the Vipers, Ripcord thought as he fired another burst at the Vipers. "The Frag Viper!" Ripcord suddenly said out loud. In a swift, dangerous move he left the relative safety of the body of the Viper, the one that had shot Myer, that he was prone behind and dove down the hallway towards the body of the Frag Viper. He turned the body over and saw a backpack full of 40mm grenades and a HK-69A1 grenade launcher. Breaking the breech he loaded a grenade. He aimed the weapon at an angle down the hall and fired. There was a high pitched pop as the seal on the grenade broke, followed by an explosion down the hall. The Vipers that weren't hit scattered. Ripcord loaded another round and fired again. Two of the Vipers were smart. They dived forward both times. The two stood up and ran, now inside the minimum safe range of the grenade launcher. Ripcord dropped launcher and scooped up his M-16. He sighted and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. 'JAM!' Ripcord screamed out in his mind. He began reaching for his M-1911 pistol when shots rang out. Ripcord saw the Vipers fall backwards. Spinning around he saw Zap, still aiming his M-16 towards the direction of the Vipers. Ripcord stood and cleared the jammed round out of his M-16. He also grabbed the grenade launcher along with several 40mm grenades. He then jogged towards Zap, who still stood watching the other hole. "Thanks man, I owe you one." Ripcord said as he too turned towards the hole and the two carefully backed out of the corridor. Thankfully the Mauler and the MOBAT still stood guard and a third vehicle was pulling up, a Wolverine with two infantry men sitting on the top, scanning the alleyways. As the Wolverine came to a stop Ripcord saw the driver. He couldn't resist grinning. "Covergirl!" 

The Wolverine was mainly a one person ride, but Covergirl knew the Command Center could use all the back up they could get, so Fast Draw and Repeater took either side of the craft. Pushing ahead, the gunner's proved useful in taking out stray soldiers. She flinched the first few times the guns went off, but as the Wolverine pressed on, she became more habituated to the noise. Fast Draw who was closest to her, seated on the right, tapped her on the helmet, pointing to the right, towards the smaller complex of buildings, but Cover Girl shook her head 'no.' He tapped her helmet again, then leaned in and shouted "THEY GOT A MAULER AND A MOBAT, HERE, WE SHOULD GO CHECK FOR HOSTILES!" 

"WE'RE ON THE COMMAND CENTER!" She shot back. She made a promise. 

"Command Three here…" A shaky voice came over the radio, and she put her hand to her helmet com-link."Uh… okay, we need to consolidate our forces. I want everyone to fall back into the complex and take up defensive positions. They're advantage lies in speed and maneuverability, if we can draw `em into the tight spaces of the faculty's buildings, then they'll lose that advantage. Out." She looked again towards the smaller buildings. They'd soon be crawling with armor. No need to leave the Command Center unguarded. Getting closer, she could see the Command Center had gotten hit worse, and winced. She looked up to see a lone 'med-evac' chopper lift off, not sure if that was a good sign or not. She chewed on her bottom lip, trying to keep her mind off the possibilities. 'He's a big boy, lass, I'm sure he'll turn up just…..' Her gaze dropped downward to a hole in the side of the building, and she smiled a full smile for the first time that day. Her eyes met his, and for a second, she flashed back to the C-130, seeing him in full HALO gear, as he shot a thumbs up sign and a smile, 'you'll do fine.' 

"Ripcord!" He was all right! Sort of. Her smile faded. His face was banged up, obviously from a fight, and the bandage on his arm, torn and bloody. Crazy Skyboy should be up on that med-evac, she thought to herself. He looked like hell. She dropped her eyes, hardly noticing the soldier standing next to him, who simply nodded in their direction. She again pictured Ripcord shouting reassurances when she was getting set to make her first high altitude jump. No matter how cool she tried to play it, he had known she was scared, he walked her through it, by the numbers. She figured he might need a little reassurance of his own. Holding in the urge to let any tears escape, she jammed a thumb into her chest, then a sideways fist to her shoulder area, pointed at him, and tapped the back of her shoulder blade in an 'I got your back' gesture, finishing off with a thumbs up sign. 

Ripcord saw Covergirl's gesture. She must've been under the impression that the Command Center was still important. As the Wolverine rolled to a stop Ripcord jogged over to it. He leapt up on the deck of the missile carrier and took a knee near Covergirl's hatch. He felt like at least saying that he was glad to see she was still safe, but it could wait. They needed to move out now. Despite his speech focusing on staying alive his green eyes seemed a shade brighter as leaned in close to her. "Did you hear Steeler? We need to make it to Way Point Zulu." He said. Before Covergirl could say anything another transmission came across everyone's radio. 

"All units, all units this is command three at Way Point Zulu, the Cobras have surrounded our positions at way point. The tights spaces are giving us the advantage. We are holding. I say again we are holding. But the line of enemy units makes it difficult for friendlies outside the line to reach Zulu. I say again if you are headed for Zulu you will encounter heavy resistance." As Steeler's transmission finished the squad channels opened up. 

"Well where in the hell are we supposed to go now?" Came the comment for Hotseat within the MOBAT. 

"Maybe we could just hold here." Zap offered. 

"I dunno. We've got no resupply, the heavies can't hold out forever." Fastdraw retorted. 

"Let's bug out into the woods man, we can't make it." Heavy Metal within the Mauler said. The radio continued with a slew of negative comments and shot-down plans. Until a very different mind set hit the airwaves. 

"We can make it." Ripcord transmitted. Before anyone could get a comment out he continued. "Zap, Heavy Metal, Hotseat come the Wolverine, I've got a plan." With that said Zap started jogging towards the missile platform as hatches popped on the MOBAT and Mauler. Heavy Metal looked a lot more humbled than on the flight over, and seemed to be alert almost the point of paranoia. Hotseat was an older tanker, a head of gray hair was seen as he pulled off his helmet, but the fire in his eyes belied his age. As the two tankers reached the Wolverine Ripcord began to speak. "Okay first, Hotseat, Heavy Metal what shape are your crews in?" 

"We're intact, I've been operating the turret while McMillian's been driving." Heavy Metal said as he jerked a thumb back towards his tank. 

"I've lost Lima, my loader. I've been running gunner duties while I switched my gunner, Adams over to loader. Padowski, my driver is fine too." Hotseat said with a nod. 

"Good," Ripcord said as he turned away from the tankers and towards the two infantry men. 

"Next thing, how's your ammo?" 

"I got 35 rounds left in this belt," Repeater said as he looked down at his M-60, "and two more boxes with 100 rounds each." 

"Not good, I'm down to my last two clips on the 16, but I've still got a LAW on me." Fastdraw said with a sigh and a shake of his head. 

"Alright here's the deal," Ripcord said as it started to fall into place. "Fastdraw give me your remaining magazines, then give your LAW to Zap." Fastdraw started to protest but was cut off as Ripcord continued. "Then I want you to go with Hotseat and operate the .50cal on the MOBAT's roof." Fastdraw finally nodded, seeing the logic of surrendering his weapons. Ripcord's gaze then shifted to Repeater. "Repeater you and your 60 go with Heavy Metal, climb on top of the turret of the Mauler and give it some anti-infantry support." Repeater grunted a response and nodded his head. Ripcord then looked to his friend, Zap. "All right buddy, me and you are on the Wolverine, you'll have the LAW and the HK-69 I found on the Frag Viper." Zap nodded as Ripcord pulled out a map of the facility and spread it out on the deck of the Wolverine. After looking at the map for a long moment he finally spoke, tracing his finger along a path. "Okay, if we hit an enemy force out in the open it'll get ugly, but if we use these secondary buildings here, the tight spaces should provide cover as we advance towards Zulu. We'll move through here to hook around to the weakest flank of the blockade around Steeler and the others. Then we make a hole and punch through it." Ripcord looked around, everyone seemed to agree. "We'll send the Mauler out on point, followed by the MOBAT, with the Wolverine bringing up the rear. Stay alert and slow as we move through the alleys. Fastdraw, Repeater stay on constant watch for infantry. Make sure if we hit an open area that you speed up. If you see an enemy vehicle, take it out as soon as possible, the fewer armor units we have to deal with on this little joy-ride, the better." Ripcord looked up as aircraft engines screamed by, seeing two Ghoststrikers flying side by side at low attitude. "Don't worry too much about aircraft, it looks like we've won air superiority. And Zap try and save the LAW and 40-mils if it's possible. If we're forced to dismount, those'll be the only heavy weapons we'll have left." With the impromptu briefing finished, Ripcord looked down at the deck of the Wolverine and let out a deep exhale. He looked up and spoke in a slightly raised voice. "Let's do this people." With that said the group began exchanging weapons and heading for the vehicles they'd been assigned to. A part of Ripcord felt strange, ordering around people that were his senior. But they didn't seem to care. Neither did he. And if the brass had a problem with it they could dock his ass for insubordination later. Ripcord's thoughts of that issue faded as he started laughing. The exhaustion and hunger must be started to get to him, he assumed. Zap looked over at Ripcord with a puzzled look. Ripcord shook his head and motioned at all the weapons and ammo Zap was carrying. "Reminds me of Poncho Villa." Shaking his head clear he focused on the Mauler rolling out. Ripcord watched as the two tanks started to slowly roll away from the command center and towards the alleyways which they would travel. While waiting for her to start up the Wolverine he looked over at Covergirl and placed his hand on top of hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. As she looked up their eyes met and he spoke in a soft voice. "I'm glad to know you're safe." 

Covergirl listened as Ripcord barked out orders. Sending the Mauler out point was a good call, topping out at 65 mph, it was the fastest of the three. The MOBAT was second at about 45 mph, and the Wolverine was the slowest, but with rapid fire capability. She had to admire how the others listened to him, respected him. As she started readying the engines, he placed his hand on top of hers, giving it a light squeeze. "I'm glad to know you're safe." He said in a soft voice. She started to give the 'You too' sign, used to using more sign language from the hatch than verbal, but managed a smile, catching herself.. She wanted to apologize for what went on in England, mostly for having left him behind, to tell him she wouldn't let it happen again, but the lump in her throat would only let her choke out a quick 

"You too." She dropped her eyes from his when she heard the MOBAT take it's position, noticing the fresh blood around the torn bandages of his arm. She grabbed his hand as he pulled it away, and pointed to his arm. "You're hurt!" She tried to visually access the wound. "There's an `Aid Kit in the back." She told him, gesturing towards the left turret. "You gotta re-wrap that." He started shaking his head no, indicating it was all right, so she grabbed his hand tighter, gingerly touching his forearm with her other hand. He winced sharply, and she shook her head, then seriously jammed her thumb back in the direction of the first aid kit, and made a 'wrap it up' gesture. She thought she saw him mock salute as he slid off the deck towards the back, but he may have been trying to steady himself. By that point, she had began starting the large engines. 

"Holla, Chic Bonito." The soldier with Ripcord said, tipping his helmet, and offering a hand. "Name's Zap." 

"Krieger." She told him, shaking his hand without looking up, then shook her head, remembering the call signs. "Covergirl." She looked up from the hatch and caught sight of his eyes. Brown. Deep Brown. Like the Cobra. 'What do you say we take the tank driver out for a little test drive ourselves?' She froze for a second, then quickly dropped his hand and her gaze, busying herself with the pre-checks "Engine one, Engine one, check, check, Left cat check, Right, Right…" She checked behind her. "Watch your head, guy" She told Zap, checking the turrets rotations. He moved to let her finish the checks, opting to help his buddy apply the wound dressing to his arm. "Okay, Mike…." She said to the craft as the two men climbed aboard, patting the control panel. "We got some company again, don't get jealous now…" She saw Ripcord stare at her, eyebrows raised and a small smile over the idiosyncrasy. Forgetting about the battle for a second, blocking out the images of the dead soldiers, and the memory of the Cobras in the woods, she smirked. She locked eyes with him and sang in a half sarcastic/mocking tone… "I see a red door and I want to paint it black…" Releasing the clutch, she eased the Wolverine into forward, spacing herself a few clicks behind the MOBAT. 

The trip through the alleyways felt like an eternity, but in reality only a few minutes had passed. Mainly because the was group so tense. Plus it was just too quiet. Not only from the lack of contact but also just the complex in general. With the exception of a few sounds of a firefight in the direction of Zulu, the helipad, and the woods; the place was deathly silent when compared to before. Only the sounds of the small convoy and the rumble of the Ghoststrikers and Skystrikers above broke the cycle. Every now and then Ripcord thought he heard more engines but couldn't be sure because they cut on and off. Again the group came to another intersection of a wide main road, their third. Just like at the two before, the vehicles darted out, trying to get across the opening as fast as possible. Ripcord was starting to learn to hate being right. A group of enemy vehicles had been shadowing them. 

"Contact!" Heavy Metal yelled out over the frequency. Off to the right there where three STUNs and two Stingers pulling onto the road themselves. The Cobra vehicles turned towards the three vehicle convoy. McMillian didn't dare let up to the accelerator as he aimed the tank towards the next alleyway. "Hang on Repeater!" Heavy Metal called out on the radio, with that he began to swing the turret in line with one of the Stingers, aiming carefully he pulled back the trigger. Thunderous boom was heard as the 105mm cannon fired, followed a fraction of a second later by the Stinger disappearing in a fireball. "Move it McMillian!" Heavy Metal screamed as he saw the flash the other Stinger firing a missile towards the Mauler. The missile began to track but slammed into a wall, creating a terrific explosion, as it attempted to follow the Mauler, which had now reached the relative safety of the alleyway. 

Meanwhile Hotseat had drawn a bead on the lead STUN. The STUN was headed straight for them. It would be an easy shot. As he aimed he saw the flashes of the four 12.7mm machine guns on the front of the STUN. Hotseat could hear the a few of the rounds ping off the armor from the hastily fired bursts as Fastdraw dropped himself into the turret, pulling the hatch shut behind him. "I hope you don't really think those'll do anything." Hotseat grumbled at the Motor Vipers operating the STUN's weapons. He pulled the trigger. The 120mm HEAT round slammed into the oversized ATV with incredible force, turning the STUN into smoldering scrap. "Load!" Hotseat barked at Adams as the gunner-turned-loader swiftly removed the spent casing from the breach and slammed another HEAT round in. "Armor all the way." Hotseat grumbled as he fired a hasty shot at the second STUN. The round pulled left, hitting the concrete beside the vehicle. Despite not being a direct hit, the force of the explosion knocked the STUN on it's side. The MOBAT then plowed through the burning rubble left by the Stinger's missile. 

Covergirl immediately saw the danger to Ripcord and Zap in the form of the remaining STUN's four machine guns. She launched a missile at the on coming enemy ATV and watched in satisfaction as the missile slammed into the nose of the STUN, raising a fireball. 

"Nice shot!" Ripcord said. She only nodded an acknowledgement, engulfed in tracking the remaining Stinger. The over turned STUN wasn't a threat right now so she ignored it. The Stinger fired a fraction of a second sooner than the Wolverine. It's missile fell short, and impacted the ground behind the Joe missile carrier. However the force of the blast's shockwave jerked the Wolverine forward, ruining Covergirl's aim as the missile streaked off into the distance. Covergirl cursed and easily drove the Wolverine over what little rubble was left after the MOBAT plowed through it. With a screaming of tires, the Stinger, wanting revenge for it's fallen teammates, turned and entered the alleyway, chasing after the Wolverine. "He's followin' us!" Ripcord called out to Covergirl. She smiled at the target display. The Stinger driver must have been trained with the AWE Striker hijacker from earlier. Just like before she rotated the turret 180 degrees and fired. The Stinger went up in a fireball, the wreckage also serving as a barricade for the moment. The small convoy continued down the alleyways until Ripcord radioed for McMillian to stop. The MOBAT and Wolverine followed suit as Hotseat came over the channel. 

"What's going on?" 

"I see some HiSSs near some buildings over there. I dunno what their up to but that's kinda outta the way considering how the Cobra forces are spread right now. Me and Zap are gonna go check it out. I want the rest of you to proceed on the original plan. We'll meet up with you at Zulu after we're finished." Ripcord transmitted. He and Zap started to dismount the Wolverine when he heard Covergirl start to say something. He turn and laid his hand on her upper arm as he spoke. "I'll see ya soon....I promise." Without waiting for a response he and Zap ran off the direction of the group of HiSSs. 

It was a large group. Six each. He and Zap crept up to where one HiSS was parked next to a small building. He motioned for Zap to go around the Building while he went up a ladder bolted to the side of the building. Once on the roof Ripcord low crawled to the ledge and looked over. There was a custom uniformed soldier in the turret barking out orders over a radio. Ripcord had seen the picture of the man in the briefing on Cobra operatives. Scrap Iron. He also noticed that the weapons on this HiSS were custom jobs. All the more reason to knock it out. Ripcord knew he would only get one shot at this. He pulled a grenade free of his ALICE gear, pulled the pin and let the spoon fly. After he waited for the briefest moment he stood and threw the grenade down at the canopy of the HiSS. The grenade went off just before it hit the canopy. It was spider-webbed but wasn't destroyed. Ripcord counted on as much, that's why he had another grenade with an already burning fuse in his hand. He threw it downwards again. It exploded. Just because something was impact resistant, didn't mean it was infallible. The second explosion was too much for the plexiglass to take. The shrapnel and broken bits of plexiglass rained inside the cockpit, mangling both it and the driver into unrecognizable husks. At some point, Scrap Iron had disappeared from the turret, Ripcord was on a clock, this was a guerilla action, he didn't have time to hunt the Cobra operative down. However he did have time to toss a third grenade through the turret, into the troop compartment of the HiSS. Ripcord heard the muffled boom from inside the HiSS as he ran back towards the ladder. 

As soon as Zap heard the first explosion from Ripcord's grenades he fired the LAW. Once again Zap was smart enough to not aim for the armor. He aimed at the canopy. The missile streaked out of it's tube and slammed through the plexiglass just before exploding. Zap didn't take the time to admire the burning HiSS as he discarded the now useless launch tube and sprinted into another building. He heard rounds hitting the concrete outside as he ran into a side office. He pulled the HK-69 off his shoulder and poked the barrel through a shattered window. Despite the difficulty of the shot, for Zap against the stationary HiSS it was easy. He angled the weapon up and fired. The grenade flew in a high arc before slamming down on the roof of a nearby HiSS, directly next to the turret operator who just disappeared. Zap started running again as he heard the gunfire switch from impacting outside, to impacting the room he was just in. Reloading the launcher he entered another office and repeated the same thing, this time a group of Vipers exiting the ramp of a HiSS were the unfortunate ones. As Zap sprinted from the office he looked at his watch. Time was up. He ran outside and saw Ripcord running towards him. "Behind!" Zap yelled. Ripcord dropped and turned as the two brought up their M-16s and fired on a group of five Vipers that just rounded the corner. The Cobra troopers fell back in sprays of blood. The two Joes started to run again, this time towards the direction of Zulu. As they ran, a Ferret came out of an alleyway, heading for the location of HiSSs. The driver, a man in some sort of brown uniform, with an eye patch didn't seem to notice Zap and Ripcord. They both aimed and fired. They saw the Cobra operative lean forward. He might be hit. He might have been smart enough to lower himself to keep his target profile as small as possible. As the Ferret disappeared behind a building the two keep moving towards Zulu. They didn't have time to check on the condition of the Ferret driver, they had to move. 

Ripcord and Zap stuck to the alleyways and buildings as the made their way towards Way Point Zulu. However they finally came to a point where they needed to cross one of the main roads. The two rushed from the building and into the street as fast they could and immediately heard the all too familiar sounds of heavy engines. Their heads snapped towards the sound, a HiSS and a Stinger were barreling towards them. Suddenly a deep boom sounded followed by the HiSS exploding in an impressive fireball. The sound of a missile launch came next, which ended with the explosion of the Stinger. Suddenly a MOBAT and a Wolverine with a Mauler bringing up the rear plunged through the smoke and came to a halt upon seeing a relieved Ripcord and Zap. Looking over the three Joe armored vehicles Ripcord smiled when he realized it was his hastily gathered command. A part of him was relieved that they had come back for himself and Zap, while another part of him was angry that they didn't proceed to Zulu. "What happened to Zulu?" Ripcord asked as he and Zap approached the vehicles. 

"We did head for Zulu," Fastdraw said looking down from his position at the MOBAT's machine gun. "But then we hear that the Cobras are pulling out. They're acting like they're being overrun. It's weird." Repeater grunted in agreement with Fastdraw. Suddenly the pieces started to fall together for Ripcord. A remotely located HiSS detachment. A Cobra explosives expert. An important part of the complex. 

"The design mainframes!" Ripcord yelled as he turned in the direction of the 1C buildings. Ripcord immediately started barking orders "Head for the 1C buil-" Ripcord was cut off as a massive explosion ripped through the facility. The ground shook so hard areas of the pavement developed huge cracks. The sky towards the direction of the 1C the setting sun was hidden as a huge cloud of smoke and fire rose into the sky. 

"Holy shit!" Somebody yelled over the open channels. "Half the fuckin' base just went up!" 

"Oh Christ. All units, all units, this is Vulture zero-one, there's just been an explosion in the 1C area, it looked like we lost the entire design mainframe area. Out." A voice broadcasted. The design mainframe was where all the specification for the Joe's custom vehicles were stored. The data wasn't lost permanently but between the loss of it and the damage to the complex. It could be months before the government would be able to manufacture the Joe's vehicles. A few long moments passed before the radio channels were kicked alive again. 

"All units, all units the enemy is in withdraw and is now out operational area. Stand down, I say again stand down." Steeler said on the open channel. He then started to rattle off specific orders for guard details. All other non-medical field soldiers were order to drive their vehicle to a staging area for transport out. All personnel not assigned to stay were ordered to report to the heliport and evac. 

After Steeler's orders were given Ripcord, Covergirl and the others reluctantly made their way towards the staging area. As they went, they saw medical, search & rescue, and clean-up teams all over the place. The ride to the staging area was relatively silent. The huge plume of black smoke where the 1C complex used to be kept anyone from really talking. About halfway to the staging area Fastdraw, who now sat outside, on top of MOBAT spoke up. "We got hit bad." He said in a defeated tone as his gaze followed the burned out husk of a Wolverine as the MOBOT passed its wreckage. 

"Yeah but they got hit worse." Zap said as he motioned to the wreckage of Rattler that had hit the ground and skidded to a halt when it connected with a building. 

"Just who the hell won?" Heavy Metal asked. He didn't get an answer. The small convoy rode in silence to staging area as night closed in. Finally after what felt like an eternity, riding through the virtual ghost town; They pulled up to the staging area and were directed to spots to park their vehicles. The group dismounted and were ushered to a waiting APC. As they walked through the rows of vehicles, they were surprised when they saw the few number of vehicles that were in operable shape. As Ripcord looked at some, he wondered how some of them had even managed to get back. He looked over and saw that Covergirl was trying to avoid looking at the blood stains that were seen on so many of the vehicles. He couldn't say he blamed her. As the seven Joes and three reservists reached the APC they all climbed slowly aboard the transport and it headed off in the direction of the helipad. Darkness had set in now. Usually the lights of the complex would still make it seem like an artificial day. Few of those brilliant floodlights were on. More disturbing was the flickering orange and yellow light of the many fires that burned throughout the complex. Ripcord heard the steady beat of rotors grow louder and louder as the APC finally rolled to a stop. Even before he got out he noticed that the area of the helipad was fully lit. As he stepped down and out of the back of the APC he saw why. Triage. The were wounded soldiers being carried back and forth on litters everywhere with medics running from one to another at a rapid pace. As Ripcord's eyes kept wandering he saw that there were far more medical Tomahawks and UH-60 on the tarmac that their standard counterparts. His eyes then fell on the most disturbing sight. The body bags. There were more of them than he could count. So many of them, that they formed a sea of darkness on the well lit tarmac. The blackness was only broken by a few men in BDUs with white scarves draped over their shoulders and reading from thick books. A final sermon to ears that couldn't hear. Ripcord swallowed hard. 

"Madre del dio..." Zap said just above his breath as he crossed himself. 

"Amen." Repeater said with a slow nod of his head. Ripcord looked over to Covergirl who had gone just a few shades whiter. Ripcord too, looked away from his fallen comrades and spotted a haphazard pile of bodies in various Cobra uniforms. He didn't care. He remembered his reaction when the first impact of him killing someone set in. That reaction wasn't present. He guessed his DIs had been right all along, the more people you killed, the easier it got. Ripcord shook his head clear as the sheer disturbance of that philosophy set in. While his eyes wandered more the group was ushered by a MP into a line of soldiers that stretched towards helicopters. The line moved forward at a slow pace. Almost as slow as a funeral march. Ripcord shook the thought out of his mind as best as he could. Eventually as they made their way towards the helicopters a medic approached him and Covergirl. The medic gave a quick examination to the two. 

"I'm sorry soldiers, you'll have to get treated back at base, we've only got room for the serious and critical." The medic said before he continued down the line checking other soldiers. Finally the group reached a split and as a fresh Tomahawk sat down on the tarmac, the ten soldiers were directed to it. Jogging across the open space, the group reached the Tomahawk and piled into it. As Hotseat entered last an Army MP slid the cabin door shut behind him and immediately signaled the pilot to lift-off. As the Tomahawk rose off the tarmac and sped off into the night, Ripcord was thankful for the darkness. He didn't want the full view of the damage. Slowly, as the soreness and fatigue in everyone's bodies settled in, they removed their gear down to their BDUs or jumpsuits; letting weapons and armor clatter unceremoniously to the deck of the helicopter. The group then rode in silence until after a few minutes had passed and the lights of the complex had disappeared over the horizon, Ripcord turned and looked at Covergirl. She looked down, initially unsure of how to react as Ripcord took hold of her hand, interlocking their fingers. 

"Thanks Courtney." Ripcord said. Covergirl shot him a puzzled look before he continued. "For making it out in one piece." 

She hoped he couldn't feel her hand shaking under his as she looked up to him, giving a soft "You too, Wally. You too." Not long after they sat, waiting for the debriefing to begin. She wanted nothing more to go back to her room in the dorms, shower, change, get rid of the cobra blood that stained more than her jumpsuit, but they had insisted on an immediate debriefing. She wouldn't let herself cry, not in uniform, and besides, she reminded herself, it wouldn't change anything. The compound would still be destroyed. Teammates would still be dead. She wanted to have Ripcord's kind of confidence, or at least, the kind she'd had just a few days before. He patted and released her hand as the door opened, a few more motley looking soldiers dragging themselves in. She knows they introduced themselves, but couldn't concentrate enough to remember what they said. Following them was a lieutenant, who called the room to order. A man wearing the silver eagles of colonel on his 'Class A' uniform took the front of the room, as exhausted soldiers did their best to snap to attention. Although not militarily correct, Covergirl couldn't help but let her eyes wander. The large room which was packed to capacity just the day before was now barely half full. Or was it half empty? 

"I won't keep you long…" The colonel began, after giving the as you were command. "I know it was a tough battle, I know you all need rest, some of you, medical attention even." She looked over at Ripcord's arm, still thinking he should have went right to the infirmary. "I'm Colonel Courage, Chief Liaison to the Joint Chiefs of staff at the Pentagon. By now, you know the enemy you encountered by the name of their terrorist organization, Cobra. According to recently obtained files, this organization has been in existence for some time, though it seems that this has been their first major strike. Unfortunately, we have reason to believe it won't be their last. The reason you were called here in the first place was to form a special counter-terrorist unit, a covert unit, which we have code named GI Joe. Our sole mission will be defense against this new organization. To the nation and the rest of the world, this special counter-terrorist team does not exist. For your safety, and the safety of your families and loved ones, you have each been assigned your own code names, we strongly suggest you use them." The rapid-fire succession of information was being lost by half of the troops, and Covergirl found herself zoning in and out, until what he said next. Taking a deep breath in and pausing to look out over the troops, he made eye contact with no one as he continued. "The battle which you just took part in did not take place. Unfortunately, this means there will be no public ceremonies for the troops lost, nor public commendations for those who excelled. Referring to this incident in any way for the next twenty years will be construed as a direct violation of the UCMJ, and may also constitute an act of treason." The room immediately started buzzing. No public ceremonies for those lost? What did he mean the battles never took place? The colonel lost his patience, slamming his hand down on the podium. "Furthermore…." He continued sharply…. "All individuals here are to remain on base until individually debriefed and further notified. Those soldiers assigned to dorm rooms may return to them, those who have not can report to billeting for temporary housing. We are currently in a state of Threatcon Bravo, meaning any and all troops may be deployed at anytime. We strongly suggest you remain ready. Individual briefings will begin tomorrow morning at 07…. Make that 0900." He closed his eyes for a brief second, then opened them, scanning the motley looking crew before him. "Unofficially…. Good job people. Dismissed." 'That was… was it?' Covergirl thought, getting to her feet with the others. 'Good job people?' She didn't care about medals, but the troops lost were just… lost? No official ceremonies? They died, and it just didn't matter? She knew orders were orders, being assigned to a special team was an honor, but still… Good job people? 

"You gotta get over, Krieger. Just get over." A voice in her head repeated. Once outside the large room, she focused her attention once more on Ripcord's wounded arm. It gave her something to think about other than what had just taken place. "You should get that stitched up." She told him, understanding why he didn't want to go to the infirmary. They had seen enough wounded for one day, for one lifetime. They had seen enough body bags. 

"It can wait." He replied quietly and she nodded. They didn't ask each other any questions about the mission, about being okay, both knowing they wouldn't like the answers if they did. There was an awkward moment of silence in front of the dorm building she was assigned to. She knew if she hugged him she'd lose it, and was doing everything she could to prevent that from happening. He let her know what dorm was his, telling her to call if she wanted, if she needed anything. She started flashing him a sign, then smiled, catching herself. 

"You too, Wally" She said before turning her back. Her hand rested on the entrance to the room, still shaking slightly, probably this time from the lack of sleep, she rationed. She drew a deep breath in closed her eyes, and turned back around. "I'm sorry about the roof… I didn't..." She started to say, still hating herself for leaving him behind. He grabbed her in a tight hug before she could finish, her hugging him back just as hard. She focused her mind on anything else she could, her first photo shoot, her most hated drill instructor, rebuilding a carburetor, detaching herself to hold it together. A single tear slid down her cheek, causing her to look down and release from the warmth of his arms, making her think once again about his wound. "Take care of that arm, Skyboy." She told him, not making eye contact, then turned and climbed the stairs to her room. 

The next two days were spent with everyone on edge. Seasoned veterans getting antsy to get back out. Newbies recovering from the shock. Constant paging to debriefing sessions. Short tempers and arguments were rampant. The base never seemed so small before. Covergirl spent the majority of her time with Ripcord, listening to his stories about jumps he'd gone on, military and non. The rest of her time was taken up in the motor pool, working on various engines, helping maintain vehicles should they need them, one of the lucky few to have busy work to keep her mind off everything. She kept the sign of the Cobra in her pocket, a bloody reminder of the battle that never took place. 

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